


Not On the Wrong Side

by Geronimo23



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geronimo23/pseuds/Geronimo23
Summary: Returning to the beach house after the Ember Island Players, Zuko is overcome with thoughts about the future. A small effort from Toph goes a long way in helping relieve his anxieties. Fits in with the canon, directly after the events of Ember Island Players (B3E17).





	Not On the Wrong Side

Team Avatar returned to the beach house a tad forlorn. The play had dampened their spirits, except for maybe Toph, but the ending had even the unshakable earthbender feeling unsettled. They talked about trivial things, intentionally ignoring the fact that they had just left an audience of hundreds who were applauding the idea of their unquestionable demise. They had been carrying the burden of this destiny, defeat or be defeated by the Fire Lord, since their journey began a few short months ago, but now that they could feel that their time to prepare was running short, the weight was becoming almost too much to bear. Making petty chit-chat was all they could do to keep the mounting dread from seeping into their bones.

Zuko was never any good at petty chit-chat. He was never very good at talking to people at all. At least, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been so awkward. Of course, for the past three years of his life, relationships with other people hadn’t mattered much. Nothing had mattered except for his firebending training, and hunting the Avatar. Nothing had mattered except for regaining his honor. Honor that was never even his to begin with.

Zuko had been feeling the weight of destiny for a long time now. Maybe his whole life, as a member of the royal family. Maybe especially once his father ascended to the throne and he became the new crown prince. Yet he’d only been so keenly aware of his burden in these past three years of exile.

He came out of his thoughts for a moment and looked around the fire. The gang had moved on from their prattling. In an effort to reinvigorate the group, Sokka and Toph were critiquing the play. They rewrote and reenacted the parts that were just plain wrong, except for some of the more hilarious details like Toph’s sonic shrieking, and added their own emphasis to the story, to everyone’s delight. Zuko felt a faint smile on his lips as well, though he wasn’t really paying attention to the show. He was looking at everyone’s faces, and he was amazed at how, even though he knew they were feeling the same pressure he did, these people around him were still able to find comfort, and even joy, in each other’s company. He lingered as he looked at Aang. He felt guilty about brooding over his own destiny when he thought about the kind of stress the last airbender must be under. And yet, out of all of them, Aang was often the most carefree. Zuko thought that perhaps that was for the best, since he was the one that faced the most daunting challenge as the Avatar, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a coping mechanism to keep the boy’s real anxieties at bay.

Before he had time to further ponder his new friend’s plight, Zuko’s attention snapped back to Sokka. He was reenacting one of the scenes from the beginning of the third act, when Zuko had been welcomed home as Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. The firebender’s attention zoned in on Sokka as the water tribe boy impersonated him, left hand over his right eye to mimic the scar. It was obviously one of the imperfections from the evening’s travesty that his friends had decided to keep.

 _Your Zuko costume's pretty good, but your scar's on the wrong side._ Zuko winced as the boy’s voice popped into his head. His scar. The people of the Fire Nation, his people…they didn’t even know what he looked like. They didn’t know which side of his face the scar was on. They didn’t know how or why he was permanently scarred, or by whom. If they did, would it matter? Would they, like his father, see him as weak? Would they still think he was a traitor, or would they see him as another victim of generations of abuse? Would they continue to follow Ozai if they know how cruel and sadistic he was? Or was that the reason they would never oppose him in the first place?

 _Your scar’s on the wrong side._ The voice echoed over and over again. His destiny was to help the Avatar restore balance to the world, but what did that mean for his nation, for his people who knew nothing of what the Fire Nation had done to the world beyond the lies of his forefathers? How would they react to the end of the war, after generations of being taught so carefully to ignore reality, to deny the truth they could see, and just accept what they were told?

 _The wrong side._ Zuko stood up abruptly, walking away from the courtyard where they had all been sitting, and entered into the main corridor of the house. He heard the group behind him go quiet, but his thoughts were buzzing as he turned to the right and walked down the hall to his bedroom. They all looked at one another, concerned.

“Uhh…” Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, “do you think I offended him? I really was trying to make his character cooler than they wrote him. You know, a hero and not a traitor…”

“I don’t think it was you, Sokka,” Toph spoke. “But I think that maybe seeing the show once was enough for him.”

“Maybe we should go talk to him?” Aang suggested, obviously concerned about the young prince. He rose to his feet as he headed toward the house.

Toph waved him off. “I’ve got this one.” They watched after her, perplexed.

Toph heard Suki’s voice as she tried comforting Sokka, who obviously felt guilty about upsetting their angsty friend. She didn’t pay any attention to their whispered conversations as she left. The minute she stepped foot in the house, she cursed the fact that she had forgotten the wooden floors. Sure, she still could feel some vibrations, and she’d made a pretty good mental map of the layout in the past couple days they’d been staying there. Still, without her earthbending, walking through this house was like a sighted person walking through a familiar room in the dark: she knew generally where she was going, but still bumped into some furniture and the walls.

When she reached Zuko’s door, it was open. She could hear him breathing from the other side of the room where he was lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. His breaths were deep but quick, like he was trying to pull himself together. With her fine-tuned ears, she could faintly hear his heartbeat, quick and irregular. She heard him shift a little to acknowledge her presence.

“I don’t want to talk.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. He had turned his head slightly to see who had come to the door but had since resumed staring at the ceiling.

“Okay,” she said, sitting with her back against one side of the doorframe, her feet on the other. “Then we won’t talk.”

They sat silently for a few minutes. He kept peering out the corner of his eye to look at her, but she didn’t move, staring straight ahead, away from him. Should he even consider it staring if she wasn’t looking at anything? He briefly wondered what it was like to sit in silence when you’re blind, before the thoughts of destiny, his nation, and the future consumed him again.

She sat patiently. He said he didn’t want to talk, but he would have to. Whatever this was, it was going to become too much for him to bear alone, she could tell. She knew that he would eventually break and need to talk to someone, but they could be here for hours if she had to wait for him. She tried to think of what they had been doing when he left. Sokka was acting out Zuko’s speech, and Katara was laughing about the way he used his hand to… _oh_. She remembered the little boy from earlier that evening.

“Zuko?” her voice was quiet, relaxed. He made a sort of grunting noise to acknowledge he’d heard her. Hadn’t he just said he didn’t want to talk? At any rate, she was obviously trying to show him her kindness, and he felt that she deserved at least an acknowledgement for that. “Where is your scar?” she asked.

His heart leapt into his throat. He sat up as he swallowed hard. He knew she couldn’t tell, but he was staring at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’?” She scoffed. “I asked, ‘Where is your scar?’ I thought it was a pretty straightforward question.” He was quiet for a few painful moments. She sighed, a little exasperated. “Look, it’s not exactly like I can see it. I didn’t even know you had a scar until one day on our way to Ba Sing Se, when Katara was telling a story about how you kidnapped Aang at the North Pole. She mentioned the way your scar looked much more menacing at sunrise.” He looked away from her then, a twinge of hurt in his chest. Of course, none of this was a surprise to him, but after working so hard to earn Katara’s trust, he hated to be reminded of why it was so difficult in the first place. She continued, “I was raised by the elite too, so I’ve got good breeding enough to know it’s not exactly polite to ask questions like this. That’s why I haven’t until now. At this point, though, I think our friendship can transcend the niceties of high society.”

He snorted. Out of everyone in the gang, her upbringing was probably closest to his own. Always worried about decorum and propriety in the company of others, always concerned that you might do or say something to embarrass your family. She might not understand his life exactly, but she had a much deeper understanding than the others, who had grown up in small villages or as a nomadic monk. He turned to look at her. She didn’t ask again, but she had turned to face his direction from the doorway, waiting patiently. He knew she wanted an answer. “It’s on my eye,” his tone was more bitter than he had intended, and he winced a little. He wasn’t upset with her, and he shouldn’t talk to her like he was.

“Which one?” Her still relaxed tone told him she hadn’t taken offense to his rudeness.

He hesitated for a moment, then answered, “The left one.”

She stood and walked toward him slowly using her toes to sweep in front of her so that she would not trip as she crossed the unfamiliar room. She quietly loathed this act of vulnerability, as it felt like she was silently admitting that her handicap had its disadvantages in certain settings, but if she was expecting him to talk about anything personal, this wasn’t the time for her to play the tough guy.

He sat up more to make space on the bed for her to sit next to him, gently taking her arm as she got near and leading her to sit. There was a slight flush in her cheeks, and he suddenly felt extremely honored to see the soft side of the great and terrible Toph Beifong.

She took a slow deliberate breath and did her best to mimic looking him in the face. “May I look at it?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you me--?” He immediately knew exactly what she meant, as he was cut off when the delicate fingertips of her right hand grazed his cheek. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath. She kept her hand as still as possible, barely resting on the skin of his face just below the scar. He breathed out slowly, reaching up to take her hand in his. Closing his eyes, he slid her hand up to meet the bottom of the scar, then let go of her hand so that she could feel around it as she pleased. She brought her left hand up to the other side of his face, comparing both sides as she moved her fingertips over his eyelids, temples, ears, and cheeks. A shiver ran up his spine, and he did his best not to shudder noticeably under her touch.

When she finally pulled her hands away, he opened his eyes again. Her expression hadn’t changed much, but there was an edge of sadness to her features now. “It was a burn.” She wasn’t asking, because there was no question. She already knew the answer. Burn scars had a distinctly smooth and crinkly feeling. He made an affirmative noise, barely audible. “How?”

He cleared his throat. He hadn’t told any of his new friends about how he got his scar. They already thought his father was evil. This would just be further proof of how malicious the Fire Lord could be, of why Zuko had little issue changing sides. Yet for some reason, he still hadn’t told them. Maybe it had never come up, but he was realizing now that he felt anxious to tell anyone, even those who would never side with his father. He felt a flash of rage as it dawned on him that this scar had represented all of the shame his father had tried to thrust upon him. But just like his father could not bestow him with honor, Zuko resolved that he would no longer be able to make him feel ashamed.

“My father did this to me.” Toph’s expression devolved through a myriad of emotions: horror, fear, sadness, anger, until she settled on a look of neutral pragmatism. She nodded, urging him to continue. “When I was thirteen, I attended one of my father’s war meetings. It was the first time I had been allowed in, and I was determined to learn as much as I could, since I will one day wear the crown.” He stopped for a moment, his emotions stirring at the thought of that statement. He pushed his concerns back to continue his story. “One of the generals suggested using our new recruits as cannon fodder in a strategic attack. I spoke up out of turn. I was horrified to think that these people with power could be so indifferent toward our own citizens, to just send them to die like that. Growing up, I was told that our nation was great, and that this war was the way we spread our greatness and our principles to the rest of the world. I didn’t believe this callous disregard for life, the lives of our own people, fit into our values.”

He let out a shaky breath. She laid a reassuring hand on his knee, encouraging him to finish his story. “My father decided to teach me a lesson about how callous our nation’s values really are. I was challenged to an Agni Kai for my disrespect in the war room, which is a sort of firebending duel where the goal is to burn your opponent. I wasn’t a very good firebender at the time, but I was cocky and bold, and I believed that I was right. I felt like my perceived moral superiority would somehow help me defeat the general.” He paused, swallowing. Time seemed to slow down as he recalled every detail, continuing, “When I turned around to face my opponent, it was my father standing there to duel me. Even though it wasn’t his plan I was speaking out against, I had spoken out of turn in his war room, and therefore had shown him disrespect.” The words were coming out in a flurry now. He was no longer looking at Toph, instead staring at the hem of his shirt as he worried it between his fingers. “I fell to my hands and knees and tried to beg his forgiveness, but he took my unwillingness to fight him as a sign of weakness and another act of disrespect. I remember every second of it, like it happened in slow motion. He brandished fire in his fist, looking down at me, at his son, with no trace of mercy. He pulled back his arm and said, ‘You will learn respect…’”

 _…and suffering will be your teacher!_ He couldn’t even finish the last part out loud, shaking the image out of his head. He didn’t realize he had become absorbed in his story, reliving it. He hadn’t even noticed the tear that had fallen down Toph’s cheek. When he thought about it, his eyes felt wet, too. He didn’t notice that he had started crying, either. He took a breath, trying to calm himself. “My father then banished me from my nation and told me not to return to the Fire Nation unless I could find the Avatar and bring him home with me. That was three years ago. From that day forward, I was so sure my destiny was to find the Avatar and restore my honor.” He paused, then chuckled ruefully. “I guess that wasn’t entirely false, though this isn’t exactly what I had imagined when I left.” Toph laughed a little, too. Zuko lowered his voice again. “They don’t even know, Toph.”

Her expression was confused. “Who? The Gang? Well of course they don’t know this story, Zuko. You haven’t really talked to any of us abo—”

“Nobody. Nobody knows,” he cut her off. “You guys don’t know, of course, but I don’t expect you to. How could I? But my Agni Kai was a public event in the Fire Nation Capitol. People from all over Capitol City saw my father do this to me, and they did nothing.” He shook his head again, growing angrier. “No, that’s a lie. They didn’t do nothing. It was celebrated by those who attended the event. And everyone else, anyone who wasn’t there? They know I was banished, but they don’t know why. Yet they treat me like a traitor all the same. So many people in my own nation don’t even know which side my scar is on, never mind how it got there, just like they have no idea what principles they’re really living under, and if they do, they have no power or desire to stop it.”

They sat there in silence for a while, Toph absorbing all this new information. Zuko felt much freer. He had never told the story of how he got his scar out loud to anyone before. Until this point, he figured that anyone he spoke to already knew what happened or didn’t need to know. In telling his story, he realized just how wrong that was. Everyone should know exactly how deep the abuse and violence of his family ran. They should know so that they would understand why things had to change.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Toph finally broke the silence. Zuko was a little stunned at first. Why was she thanking him? She was the one who followed and checked up on him, then sat there and let him whine to her about his misery. He thought for a second about watching her cross his room earlier. It had not been the same side of Toph he’d seen in combat, confident and strong, or even the same side that she usually showed her friends, bold and brash. This was a side of her she didn’t show often, meek and a little unsure, light shining through the cracks in her armor just enough that they were easier to notice. He had felt humbled to witness this side of her. All at once, things started to click into place. He no longer saw her weakness, or the weakness of any of his friends, as something to exploit, and they likewise no longer hid them from him. Vulnerability wasn’t something that they had to be ashamed of because there was no concern that it would be used against them. She had let him see her in that state because she trusted him, and on some level, he had known that. He realized that, in telling her this story, he had told her that he trusted her, too. These relationships, this trust…these were the principles he wanted to live by, that he wanted for his people to live by. This ability to be vulnerable with each other is what made them each able to find strength and comfort and joy even in the most difficult times.

“Thank you for listening.” He knew she couldn’t see it, but he smiled at her. She must have sensed it, as she smiled back. She punched him hard in the shoulder. He winced a little, mumbling, “Ow!” under his breath.

She laughed at him. “C’mon, let’s get back to the others. Sokka and I have yet to amend the ending of the play. We still have Fire Lord butt to kick!” She stood, then turned her head slightly to him. “You’re going to have to lead me this time, though. This house is like stumbling around in the dark for me. Aren’t you people wealthy enough to afford marble floors or something?”

Zuko chuckled as he stood up and offered his arm for her to take. She was back to her brash self. After their moment alone, he could appreciate this side of her so much more. It was taking time to unlearn what years in the Fire Nation had taught him, but he was starting to realize that having vulnerabilities only amplifies one’s strengths. Showing weakness was an important part of self-reflection, and doing so will make one a person stronger. He smiled as he thought to himself, _That sounds like something Uncle would have said._

The cool night breeze felt nice on his face as they walked through the doorway. Once Toph’s feet hit the brick courtyard, he felt her hands slip away from his arm. “Hey Meathead, we have one final scene to act out!”

Suki, Aang, and Katara turned to look at them, expressions of worry fading to looks of relief. Suki nudged Sokka, who was sulking on her shoulder, and he smiled as he stood to meet the returning pair. He looked at Zuko. “Look buddy, I’m sorry if I…I didn’t mean to…I just—”

“Don’t worry about it, Sokka,” Zuko smiled back. “It’s not your fault. Just watching my people cheer for the idea of us losing…it’s a lot for me to think about.”

An expression of realization flashed over Sokka’s face. He had always looked at the Fire Nation as an enemy, but to Zuko, they were his friends, his family. His countrymen. As a prince, they were his people. Knowing they all viewed him as a traitor and hoped for him to fail was a lot for even Sokka to think about. He tried to find the words to sympathize with Zuko’s plight, but before he could, Toph grabbed him by the bicep and dragged him to their makeshift stage. “Let’s go! It’s getting late, and we’ve got a lot of training to do tomorrow. Let’s give these people the piece-de-resistance before we get some shuteye!”

Toph bent the earth up underneath her into a set of stone stilts, standing slightly taller than Sokka. She affected the persona of an evil villain, letting out a devilish cackle. “Puny Avatar!” she pointed at Sokka. He looked around quickly, making eye contact with Aang. The younger boy smiled, tossing his staff to the actor for use as a prop. “How do you suppose that you, a tiny air nomad child, will be able to defeat me, the supremely powerful Fire Lord Ozai, all on your own?”

Sokka chuckled, and pointed the staff toward his opponent defiantly. Aang leaned over to Katara and whispered, loud enough for all of them to hear, “I like this actor’s portrayal of me better already.”

She laughed and whispered back, “He hasn’t even said anything yet.”

Aang nodded, “I know.”

They all stifled a laugh as Sokka cleared his throat. “That’s the thing you haven’t considered: I never planned on defeating you alone! You think you’re so powerful and so strong, but I have an even stronger team of allies, benders and nonbenders alike, across the globe!” With that, he ran at the Pseudo Ozai holding the staff like a spear, shouting.

When he came close to Toph, she threw herself backwards, scattering the rocks and shouting. “Noooo! But you are so tiny and weak! You…you have defeated me! But hooooow?” Toph’s over-the-top feigned despondence elicited another round of stifled laughter.

Sokka held the staff to her throat menacingly, “We have met every challenge yet, and we will not stop until you have been defeated. You’re on the wrong side of this fight, Fire Lord.” The small crowd burst into applause.

 _The scar’s not on the wrong side!_ Zuko’s own voice echoed in his mind. _Not on the wrong side_ indeed.


End file.
